Shouldn't Be a Good in Goodbye
by Mlle M's
Summary: She had no idea what he read on her face, which emotions she had let slip, but it was enough. She watched as his smile faltered and his face fell, a flash of comprehension crossing his eyes. "You took your decision." "I did," she confirmed, her voice raspy. "D.C. offered me a job." If Lisbon had told Jane in 6x21... And how their goodbyes could've looked like.


**A/N:**** Song used is _Cry_ by Jason Walker. And title of this story is taken from one of his other songs.**

**A big thanks to MichaellaD for taking some of her time to correct the orthographical and grammatical mistakes. I really appreciate your help and patience!**

**And a special dedication to Jane Doe51 because you've been reviewing my every chapter, every piece I've posted on this site from the start (and when I say reviewing I actually mean writing essays), and I'm seriously very grateful for your support. I also know you love Jason Walker as much as I do!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mentalist.**

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><p><em>Oh no, where did all the years go?<em>

_And was it really worth all of this_

_Heartache that was handed to me_

_Holding on just don't make sense_

"Jane is a liar. No need to deny it, I expect it of him. But you're not a liar, Lisbon," Abbott said. "You're an honest, good person with a long career ahead of you. And I don't want to see you throw away this new opportunity of yours. So, I'm going to ask you one more time. Is there any truth to Ridley's accusations?"

She knew her superior's intentions were sincere. It wasn't only about the case, but about the decision she had to take, whether or not she was going to accept D.C.'s job offer. She could see where he was going with this. He was clearly pointing out the fact that, if she chose to leave, she would have to follow _her_ only judgment - no one else's, and especially not Jane's - if she didn't want to jeopardize her chances.

But Jane had screwed up her judgment and initial values a long time ago, if how she didn't even feel the slightest bit guilty for what they had done to Ridley didn't speak for itself. Hell, that man had damn well deserved to taste a bit of his own medicine… She even _sounded_ like Jane, she thought sarcastically.

Abbott was still right, though. She couldn't continue like this if she wanted to take the job. She knew his question was a test.

"No," she answered firmly, leveling her gaze with his. "Everything Jane said was true."

She had always covered Jane from their time at the CBI to now. However much she sometimes hated it, and how undeserving he sometimes was, she'd always had his back. And she wasn't about to change that habit now.

They were partners - have been from the start.

"A risky answer, agent Lisbon," Abbott said with a frown - yet, he didn't insist. And she suspected he didn't really want a positive answer; it would throw the whole case and all their hard work in the air, and Ridley wouldn't get the sentence he deserved.

The situation vaguely reminded her of a case back at the CBI during which Jane had buried the killer alive to get a confession. It was also poetic justice, but she wasn't keen on history repeating itself - said criminal had weaseled out of many prison years because of the unethical method used to condemn him.

She knew the decision she had to take. Working with Patrick Jane had turned out to be the best thing that had happened to her, despite the many times he had lied to her, used her, broke her heart. She'd never find the same enthralling dynamic anywhere else; he made the job easier, and the boring cases worthwhile.

And it was a lot more than simple work; he was her number one on speed dial, and she knew her number was programmed into the same key on his phone - that meant something.

Yet that's all it would ever be between them: partnership, deep trust and affection. And she had reached a point where she was done waiting and holding on: she needed someone to go home to more than someone to go to work to. And he hadn't given her any indication that he wanted to be both.

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><p><em>I've been thinking about my life and<em>

_How much time I've wasted_

She didn't regret any of the time she had spent with and _for_ Jane back at the CBI. She probably wouldn't change a thing if she had the power to. And despite what people said, it hadn't been a waste of time: at the end of the day, the bad guys were at their rightful place. And in the end, Jane had gotten Red John.

She was known to have a short temper, but she also had an unerring patience – both wolves coexisted.

What had been a waste of time, though, was waiting for a man who wouldn't give her what she wanted, needed - and God knew she wasn't asking for much. She thought she knew where the problem was, but how could she be sure when he never said what he felt?

Maybe she'd been fighting a lost battle all along. Maybe he'd been right years ago, when he'd told her there were some things that just couldn't be fixed. A heart could never really be put back together entirely, but she'd tried so hard to bandage the damage.

She'd reached the point where she had run out of Band-Aids.

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><p><em>I'm ready to put it all behind,<em>

_Let it all be yesterday_

"He'll understand?" Marcus asked carefully.

"Yeah," she replied, forcing a smile that she was far from meaning. The problem wasn't that Jane wouldn't understand her decision; she was pretty sure he would be selfless about it all, wouldn't question her if he thought it was for her happiness. No, the problem would be _telling_ him.

Because this would be the first time ever since they met that they would be separated _voluntarily_. It wasn't a con to catch a serial killer, nor an exile encouraged by a previous murder act.

It would also be the first time it was about _her_.

Which meant it would also be the first time they'd go through a proper goodbye.

There'd be no voicemails and no letters this time around. Only words to be said, eyes to be met, tears to be omnipresent as voices shook…and maybe - _most certainly_ - one last hug to share.

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><p><em>But the hardest part of letting go<em>

_Is trying to find a way_

_To let you know_

"How'd it go with Abbott?" he asked as he heard her approaching, not taking his eyes off his novel. And she couldn't help but think that Patrick Jane was the only man she knew that could probably maintain a full conversation while reading a book.

"Eh," she shrugged dismissively.

He glanced up at her for the first time since she joined him and smiled, before drawing his attention back to whatever story he was reading. "Thanks."

And even though it was said nonchalantly, she knew he truly meant it – like every other time he had thanked her in the past… And every time he'd told her he was sorry. He never mislead her with either of those things.

"We make a good team sometimes," he suddenly said, and something broke inside of her; a shard of glass landing deep down in her stomach, twisting her guts mercilessly. He sure as hell wasn't making things easier.

"Yeah, we do," she replied softly. Her heart was beating at a quicker speed; she was nervous. At least he couldn't see it because he was reading a book.

"You heading out?"

The question took her off guard – it was an easy way out. All she had to do was…

"Jane." Her voice was low and firm at the same time, willing him to raise his head.

He did so, a soft smile on his face. "Yes?"

She took in a breath, trying to gather her courage. "I…"

But she couldn't say it. It had been a good day; they'd just found their old comradeship back, and they'd had _fun_. He'd let her in on his plan. And at some point during the day, they had both forgotten the tension nagging at them every time they were together – tension that had been present ever since Pike had come into the picture.

She had no idea what he read on her face, which emotions she had let slip, but it was enough. She watched as his smile faltered and his face fell, a flash of comprehension crossing his eyes. He closed the book and put it on the couch beside him.

"You took your decision." It wasn't a question.

"I did," she confirmed, her voice raspy. And since he deserved to know the details, she added, not quite meeting his eyes, "D.C. offered me a job."

"Oh." He cleared his throat. "That's, uh…that's great."

His enthusiasm was as fake as his smile – and his voice cracked at _great_.

She was no fool. "You think so?" It was almost skeptical.

He looked at her in the eyes, _really did_, abandoning all pretense of a smile. The last time she had seen that serious and intense look on his face was the night he had knocked at her door to drop off cannoli.

"Well, it's a great opportunity." He said softly, his eyes not leaving hers. "And you earned it. You deserve this new start, this new responsibility."

He stood up from the couch so that he was standing right in front of her, leveling his gaze with hers. And the next words he said seemed to physically break him. "And you deserve to be with somebody who makes you happy. Somebody who doesn't complicate your life. Somebody who won't hurt you."

He's letting her go. Tears were brimming her eyes, and she _didn't want him to see her cry_. So she hugged him - and was surprised at how tightly he hugged her back.

"I'm happy for you."

"Thank you," she whispered back against his shoulder, the sound muffled but still clear for Jane to hear.

They pulled away.

"I have to go."

He nodded, his eyes unbearably sad. He sat back down on the couch. "Oh, don't keep agent Pike waiting."

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said gently.

"I'll be here."

She was too afraid to look back as she excited the room.

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><p><em>So let's just cry, cry<em>

_On each other's shoulders_

_Cry until it's over_

_Can't it just be over?_

"The taxi will be here at nine," Marcus informed her, and she gave him a quick peck on the lips as a thank you before getting out of the car. He had dropped her off at the Bureau, and she had an hour to say her goodbyes. He'd been kind and understanding, but could only imagine how hard the separations would be for her to postpone them at the last minute.

He, on the other hand, had untied all his knots the day before, so he'd be staying at Lisbon's house waiting for the taxi in order to load the suitcases before stopping by to pick her up. He didn't mind – it was on the way to the airport.

She entered the bullpen and headed towards Jane's couch where he was stretched out on it without a care in the world, as if it were any other day. Her heart was clenching painfully at the sight, so she quickly made a beeline for her desk. She decided to save the goodbyes with Jane for last.

She sat at her desk, opening the bottom drawer to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything (she knew she hadn't, she'd checked twice yesterday evening when she was supposed to say her goodbyes then)_._ She was stalling again.

"Good morning."

Jane's voice made her jump, and she turned around to find him still lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

"Morning, Jane."

The familiarity of the exchange almost had her believing it was a normal workday. But the desk clear of any paperwork to fill was a flagrant reminder.

She opened the last drawer, and was taken aback by the box of strawberries she found resting in it. She could feel her throat choking up as she took it out, but quickly composed herself. She walked to Jane's couch. He had his eyes closed, but she knew better than to assume he was sleeping.

"Jane, you didn't need to."

He opened his eyes and gave her a small smile. "Meh, you know the deal with airplane food." He sat up. "And besides, it's my parting gift to you."

She smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They locked eyes for a couple of seconds longer, before he stood up.

"I'm going to go make some tea. Coffee?"

She had barely slept that night; he could probably tell. "I'd like that."

Wylie came around soon after Jane left, and before she knew it, it was time for the first goodbyes. He gave her a white box with a pink ribbon – _chocolates_, she presumed.

"Thank you," she smiled warmly at him.

"You're so welcome," was his cheerful reply.

They hugged, and he told her he'd miss her. She'd miss him too; she had grown attached to his innocent nature and his almost childish eagerness to work with them. He was such a sweet guy.

Jane handed her a cup of coffee on his way back. It smelt heavenly. He didn't stay by her side though, giving her some privacy because Fisher was approaching to say her farewells. Both women talked for a good ten minutes while Lisbon sipped her drink, before Fisher gave her a warm hug, telling her they'd stay in touch.

On her way to the break room, she crossed Abbott in the hallway, who shook her hand warmly to thank her for her services.

"We'll miss you around here. Best of luck for this new start."

"Thank you, sir," she smiled back, vaguely remembering a time when she used to curse the man.

Every goodbye was a new weight to her heart. The whole situation still seemed surreal; she had a hard time wrapping her head around the concept that she wouldn't be walking through those elevator doors the next day. She knew she would miss Austen almost as much as she used to miss Sacramento back in another Washington.

Saying goodbye to Cho was what made everything _real_. She was leaving her last connections to the CBI era behind. She was closing a book that had lasted ten years in the making - she would no longer be a character in it. But turning the last pages was revealing to be extremely hard. Like any good book, she didn't want it to end.

"I'll miss you, Lisbon."

She felt tears welling up unexpectedly. It meant so much coming from Cho.

"You are the finest agent I've ever had to work with. I'm proud of what you've become."

They hugged – she was going to miss him dearly.

"I wish you the best," he told her.

"And I you."

There was only one person left to say goodbye to now. She looked at the clock…

…And froze. She only had five minutes. She cursed herself as a wave of guilt crashed on her for stalling earlier. They were supposed to have a long and meaningful conversation, at the end of which they'd find the closure they both needed. That plan had just run down the drain.

She walked to Jane's sofa; feeling like every step she took seemed heavier than the previous one.

"Jane."

He stood up slowly.

"Lisbon." He smiled sadly at her. "This is it, huh?"

"It is," she replied softly.

They starred awkwardly at each other, neither one knowing how they were supposed to go through this. They'd never done this before, after all.

She took in a breath. "Jane, I…"

Then her phone rang unexpectedly from her purse, making her jump. She fumbled for it, and when she found it quickly pressed it against her ear.

"Teresa, it's me," she heard Marcus' familiar voice say. "We're at the front of the building."

"Okay, I, uh- I'm coming in a minute."

She hung up, not waiting for Marcus' reply. She looked at Jane with a remorseful expression.

"You have to go," he said matter-of-factly. She knew he was hurt for the time limit, but he hid it well.

"Not before another minute."

"Come on, I'll escort you," he said gently.

She gave him a small smile. "I'd like that."

He led her to the elevator, a hand on her lower back.

The doors closed.

"You'll miss me," he said casually.

She smiled despite herself. "Oh, really? Well, self-aggrandizing _is_ one of the many adjectives I'd use to describe you, along with pain in the ass, irritating, frustratingly pushy… What's not to miss?"

He shook his head, grinning. She was going to miss this.

"And I think you're going to miss me too," she added nonchalantly as the elevator doors opened.

His smile fell and their steps faltered. They could see the yellow cab in the parking lot.

"You don't have to worry about that," he said quietly.

She could feel her throat constrict, but didn't reply as he was already opening the entrance door for her. Everything seemed to be going too fast, playing out right in front of her eyes like she was nothing but a spectator in her own life.

They stood outside of the building, and they heard a car door opening then closing – Marcus had gotten out of the cab and was waiting for her, a reminder that time was ticking.

She turned to Jane, and was taken aback by his serious expression and intense look in his eyes.

"This is the part where I wish you every good thing that could cross your way, Teresa," he said in a thick voice. "And where I thank you for everything you've done for me." His eyes were shining and never leaving hers.

The sensation of tears burned its way up her throat, and they soon clouded her vision.

He hugged her then, and she held him just as tightly, closing her eyes as a couple of tears escaped.

"You and I are not finished, Jane," she said almost severely against his shoulder. "This isn't the end."

She wasn't closing the book; she was simply writing a new chapter – _she really wanted to see it that way._

"There's no finish line. No end point. You just have to go," he said softly. "We'll keep in touch; by phone calls, texts, or letters, your choice. You'll visit. And you'll be my tour guide when Abbott pays me a trip to D.C."

"Sounds good," she smiled, almost believing him.

They pulled away.

"Goodbye Jane."

"Goodbye, Teresa."

Turning around to walk away had proved to be the most difficult part of the separation. She was leaving Jane behind, leaving Austen's Bureau behind – _literally_. She turned around once, a glance at what would now become a part of her past (she'd once seen this place as her future).

Those last lines needed to be written in order for the story to continue. They didn't make the process less painful, though.

But she'd learned that sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing were the same.

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><p><em>And we'll just cry, cry<em>

_Cry until it's all gone_

_Been holding on for too long_

_Time for us to move on_

"Ready?" Pike asked as he opened the door for her to slide in, laying a hand on her lower back. _She could still feel the ghost of Jane's lingering there just moments ago._

"Ready." It hadn't come out as sure as she would've liked it to.

She glanced out the window at Jane just as the cab started to roll. He seemed to be lost in thought, his shoulders slightly slumped, but still met her eyes and addressed her a small smile before she was too far to read his face. She saw him opening the door, pausing to look in their direction before entering the Bureau; the car took a turn. And just like that, he was gone.

She had no idea when – _if_ - she was ever going to see him again.

Only once was she safely seated in the plane beside Marcus, searching for her phone in her jacket pocket to turn it off, did she feel the folded piece of paper with it.

An origami frog.

And only weeks later, while trying to discover the secret behind Jane's paper frogs by unfolding it with all the care in the world – making sure she would know how to fold it back together after its dissection – did she notice the scribbling in one of the folded corners.

_Love you._


End file.
